


Upon the Waking

by NKMLN



Series: Eston Chronicles [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Body Horror, Fae AU, Gen, M/M, more will be added as they enter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 10:51:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NKMLN/pseuds/NKMLN
Summary: The Prince has broken free, and all is right. The Prince has escaped, and that is unacceptable.(Sequel to Queen Anne's Lace)





	Upon the Waking

Here is how you make a monster:

First, you find a man. Any man- good, bad, it doesn’t matter. Find a face to which he’ll listen, who he’ll follow without question, and then make sure he won’t go anywhere. Trap him, by any means necessary.

Any means at all.

And then, you take the vestiges of humanity. You take what made him a man in the first place- take the memories, the heart, the kindness, and the parts of the soul he no longer needs will fall like petals into your palm. If at all possible, take his name, too. Make him forget. Make him unrecognizable. Sever his ties. Let the space he had in the world be filled in. (This step will take time. Keep him young, too.)

And when is right, when it’s ready, you give it marching orders. You tell it to fight, and you do not tell it why. It won’t care about why, if you’ve done things right.

Do things right the first time. It saves you so much trouble later.

~|~

Two beasts hold court in a ring of dogwoods, the ground scattered with leaves. The trees are going bare with the tides of autumn, but the ground is alive, alive, alive with the little creatures- the mice, the squirrels, the birds that fly only to smash to the ground on a wicked gust of wind. (Nature is beautiful, but it is not human, and our morals do not apply to its decisions. Wolves hunt not to feel blood between their teeth, but to sustain themselves. Remember that.)

“The Prince is truly gone?” one asks. Her long coat flutters in the wind, dappled in dark, glittering stains, and the thorns that erupt from her throat still drip gold. “He broke free?”

A woman leaning against a tree tilts her head, the gems embedded at her hairline glimmering in the light of the sunset. “Hallus, there’s no need to use such language. It merely broke. We could fix it, if we needed to, I’m sure there’s enough-”

“You will do no such thing.” Her eyes blaze, swirling through a dozen colors at once. “You had no right to order this. Not on a Besider. Don’t you understand what you’ve done?” She shakes her head, then laughs. “We finally understood the dynamic- we finally knew how far we could press, and you have ruined  _everything_. We have to start over. We don’t know what this one is like- we cannot use his name! We cannot use his name, Mara, and we already know it!”

Mara stands to her full height, the gems glittering brighter, somehow, in the encroaching darkness. When she smiles, her teeth glow, and she steps forward, pieces of quartz crushing into the ground under her bare, dirt-covered feet. “Oh, but darling-”

“Do not  _darling_  me.”

“Darling, I know how much you love to learn. Oh, Hallus, you did so love the idea of a protector, you can’t hold me solely to blame for this.” Her smile turns sympathetic. “Shall we make a deal, then? I will find someone to… get rid of my Architect, and I will take care of yours, as well.”

“And in return?”

“And in return, I will have your express permission to create a new Prince.”

Hallus’ reply is instant, and unwavering. “No, Mara. It didn’t work the last time, and I won’t let you destroy this all again.”

The sun finishes setting, and Mara bows her head. Every edge of her is glowing, now, like radiation, like the sun, and she holds out her hand. “Very well. No second half. No favors. I will find someone to rid us of our Architects and with them, the guilt will be absolved. Better?”

After a moment, Hallus shakes.

It is done.

~|~

Once upon a time, a throne stood in this clearing, a twisted, beautiful thing, bearing crystalline fruits of labor. Once upon a time, there was a protector, and he wielded a mighty sword and promised to guard the forest until the end of time.

Once upon a time, there were liars, thieves, and they took him from us, never to return.

Now, was that fair?

~|~

Mara sweeps through the trees, their leaves beginning to crinkle brown and fall. The edges of her trailing dress drag them through the dirt before letting them go, releasing fragments of matter on stone and fallen branch. She glows, still, bioluminescent, as the eldest Besider would call her.

She cares not what he thinks. She cares not what any of them think. They are of no consequence to her, not anymore.

Well. She smiles, and her teeth shine in the darkness.

Soon.

The moment that Mara leaves the clearing, Hallus turns in the opposite direction. “I know you’re there,” she calls.

Her friend steps out of the shadows, smiling innocently, his antlers cast into silhouette against the last remains of the sun. “Oh, dear, I should have announced myself! Attention, my ladies, may I offer my advice to your court?” He drops into a deep, mocking bow, and she laughs despite herself. “I’m ever so happy to help! Now, what’s all this about a missing prince?”

“How much did you hear?”

His smile disappears as he falls into step beside her. “Enough. Hallus, you do know that you can’t trust her with this, right?”

“What else am I to do, Cadal?” She sweeps back her hair, and her voice is soft when she continues. “I can’t make her an enemy. I can’t make her  _court_  an enemy. I- I can’t let her take another Prince, either.” She crosses her arms, rubbing them warm. “I don’t know what to-“

“Let me kill the architects.”

Hallus’ eyes go wide. “No. No, she’ll- Cadal, you can’t move directly against her, you know that, you can’t-“

“The Besiders can.” He takes her hands. “I’ve trained for this. No harm will come to me. This is the simplest way. Mara’s given her permission for them to die, she won’t care. It’s okay. Hallus-“ His voice goes soft. “My lady, let me do this.”

Mara smiles again. She hears every word, and she knows what the next one will be. Her lips shape it in the same, sharp moment that Hallus’ do.

“Go.”

“Check, darling,” she purrs, and she glares star-bright for a moment, illuminating her bluejay-feather cape, the crystals jutting from her elbows, her knees, the joints of her fingers. This is a woman too sharp to know mercy, and for a moment, the forest trembles. A baby bird tumbled from a tree in a dark gust of wind, dying as it touched ground for the first time in its life. A fox hides under a root, suddenly and keenly award that there are sharper fangs than these. A halfway man wakes up and feels thorns across his eyelids before he blinks and they crumble to so much dust.

Mara laughs.

And then she disappears.


End file.
